Eyes On You
by nianic
Summary: Hermione, hoping for a calm honeymoon with her newlywed husband, Draco, leaves the city for a countryside cottage. Their marriage was off to a rocky start, but she's hoping that some time away could heal old wounds. What's the catch? This fanfic begins with a bit of back-story, but is ultimately a dramatic Dramione romance. Post-DH, PTSD, grieving, romance.
1. Chapter 1

I had just sat down with a cup of tea when I heard a knock at the door. I was in my hotel room, hiding out from as many people as I possibly could. Who even knew I was here, besides Neville and Luna? I stood up slowly, reluctant to move after the long day I had had.

When I finally opened it I saw a man I've never seen before.

"Hermione Granger?" he asked me.

Hesitantly, I respond yes. The back of my neck felt tingly, like my intuition was at attention. I looked at the table next to my bed for my wand, wishing it was in my hand. When I turned back around the man's face was contorting. His light brown curls faded white and flattened out, the freckles on his skin vanished, and his features were morphing.

I retreated deeper into my bedroom, fear threatening to consume me. Draco Malfoy was standing in front of me, slowly matching my footsteps until he was in my room and shutting the door behind him. Reflexively I lurched for my wand and began sending hexes towards him.

"How _dare_ you show your face here, you vile creature?" My arm couldn't stop moving. I had never been proficient at nonverbal spells but they poured out of me like liquid. Despite this, Malfoy blocked every attack until he finally disarmed me.

"Give my wand back to me this instant!" I growled at him. He threw both of our wands on the bed and raised his hands in the air.

"I just want to talk to you."

I was taken aback. "Me?" My eyebrows perked up. "You want to talk to me? What on Earth could you possibly want to talk to me about, Malfoy?" I took a step towards him. "How about how you tried to kill every muggleborn witch and wizard not two months ago? Or how about how you tried to kill _me_? Or that-"

"I just need to explain, Hermione," he said calmly. Steadily.

"Oh, it's _Hermione_ now, huh? Am I no longer a mudblood in your eyes?" I laughed at his audacity. A small part of me considered that this could be a dream, but the blood coursing through my veins were pulsing with reality. This was real. And yet, my brain still couldn't wrap itself around the fact that Draco Malfoy was here, in my room, as if a war hadn't just been fought. As if blood hadn't been spilled.

"Malfoy, you are the epitome of evil. You are the reason _they_ walked into our school, tortured our classmates, killed my friends. Do you not remember what happened? Are you that daft?" Tears were collecting in my eyes and threatening to fall. Anger surged through me like a lightning bolt. I wanted to hurt him.

I wiped at my eyes aggressively and scoffed. "I told myself I would never cry in front of you. How dare you corner me and request my-what? Forgiveness? Did you think I would want to have tea and a conversation? Perhaps if I weren't such a pathetic mudblood I would kill you like your Death Eaters tried to kill me."

He glanced down in shame. "Please don't ever be like them."

"GET OUT!" I yelled at him, snapping back into anger. I grabbed his wand and pushed it into his hand. "Get out and never come back!"

"Hermione, please," he begged, his hands wrapping around my shoulders to stop me. And then he did something that shocked me to my core: he dropped to his knees. "I am begging, please. I need you-"

"Need me? For what?"

He was silent for a moment. "My trial is in four days and you're my only hope. You must believe I wouldn't be here begging if I didn't truly think you were my only hope."

"And how in bloody hell would I be able to help you?"

"Because I didn't rat you out in the manor-"

"You didn't stop your aunt from carving into my skin, either." He flinched.

"-and because you're the most brilliant witch of our age. A war heroine. People trust your opinion. They trust that you'll always do the right thing."

"The right thing would be to curse you. I would have to be batshit crazy to ever testify for you, Malfoy. You've spent _years_ breaking me down, destroying any ounce of confidence I ever possessed. I don't have a family anymore because I had to protect them from _you_. This is over. Please, just get out of here." I grabbed his arm to pull him up and I pushed him towards the door.

"If you rot in Azkaban, know you deserve every sodding moment of it." We locked eyes, and for a moment I felt remorse for being so cruel. I've always been a reasonable person. I thought it silly to hold grudges, and I disliked the way Ron and Harry were so impulsive with their emotions; I much preferred logic. And yet, here I was. Logic had left the building. My emotions were raw.

Malfoy walked slowly to my door and rested his hand on the door knob. I felt his eyes graze my arm, the one with "mudblood" carved into it. "You may never understand how sorry I am for what I've done to you," he said. "Please just look at these. Please." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet bag the size of his hand. "Please," he repeated. He held the bag out for me and I snatched it out of his hands as I reached around him and pulled the door to my room open.

When I knew he was down the hall and far away from me I collapsed beside my door. It wasn't fair for him to show up and it wasn't fair for him to ask me to testify. I threw the bag across the room and screamed in anger. There goes my goddamn relaxing night at home.

Later that night after an incredibly long shower, I sat down on my bed and replayed the events from earlier for the thousandth time.

I looked over at the blue velvet bag sitting inches from the baseboard of my wall. Should I throw it away? Look at it? What could possibly be in there?

I came down for breakfast and spotted Luna reading a copy of _The Daily Prophet_. I sat down in front of her and poured myself a glass of pumpkin juice. "Good morning, Luna," I said to her before taking a sip.

"Oh, hello, Hermione." I watched her flip the newspaper upside down. "The trial is in three days. There's a lot of fear in the air." Her dreamy voice somehow made anything sound like a feather floating in the air. Even when she was talking about Death Eaters.

Draco flashed into my mind, but I pushed the thought away. "Yeah, well. Hopefully a just decision is made."

"I wonder about the fate of the people who were coerced into being a Death Eater. I can't imagine their sentences would be as severe. Wouldn't you hate that?"

I scoffed. "No one was coerced, Luna. The Death Eaters have blood on their hands, no matter what the reason."

"That's an awfully black-and-white way of looking at it,"said Neville, as he slid onto the bench next to Luna. I looked up at him as he pressed his lips against Luna's forehead and began preparing his breakfast. "Normally you're more open to reason."

"Normally I'm not going to back-to-back funerals of my friends and colleagues." Why was everyone so determined to create excuses for Death Eaters? "You get punished when you murder someone, Neville. That's not black-and-white. That's fact."

"Okay, sure. You do something wrong and you accept the consequences. But humor me a moment, eh?" I rolled my eyes. "Let's say your mother and father are two of the most influential witches and wizards in all of London. And let's say they happen to be Death Eaters. And let's say out of family obligation you were forced to side with them, to commit murders and torture people? Would you feel the same way?"

"Yes, I would! Because I wouldn't have gone through with it! I would have gone off on my own, refused to partake in such activities. It's simple, Neville."

"No, Hermione. That's naive. How can you trivialize a decision like that? You really think you would have been able to just walk away? That no one would kill you in response? You'd would be denying a legacy, Hermione."

"Why are you getting so angry about this, Neville? These people tried to kill us. They murdered your family! Why are you taking their side?"

He slammed his fist on the table. "I'm not taking anyone's side! I'm just suggesting that your thinking is too cut and dry. Not everyone deserves a lifetime in Azkaban. And you're much more daft than I realized if you think every single Death Eater chose their fate. It's real lovely that you think yourself so high and mighty that you would just walk out on your family because you didn't like their agenda, but not everyone is you, Hermione."

I was completely taken aback. Where did he get off talking down to me this way? And why in Merlin's name was he actually defending these people?

"Not everyone in Slytherin is evil. They may not be the best people, but they aren't evil. Haven't you thought about Draco Malfoy at all? How he didn't give any of us up, or how he never had the guts to do a damn thing? He was spineless. He talked himself up and put on a facade in front of his friends, but we both know he was pure chickenshit."

"Do we know that, Neville? Please explain to me how you know exactly what goes on in the mind of Sir Draco Malfoy."

"He let me see his thoughts."

"He-what?"

Neville leaned in closer. "He came to me about a week ago and asked-no, begged-if I could pour his thoughts into a pensieve. He asked me to testify and I told him I would."

I had no words. My mouth felt heavy, like it was impossible to open it. How many people had Draco Malfoy gone to? And if Neville of all people was willing to testify in favor of Draco, shouldn't I at least take a look inside the bag too?

At my silence, Neville turned back towards Luna and picked up a conversation they had been having earlier in the day. I couldn't move but I didn't want to sit here with all these people around us. The guilt I had felt earlier towards being cruel to Malfoy was sitting heavy in my stomach. Who had the war turned me into?

Once I worked up the courage to move, it was like urgency was pushing through my veins. Curiosity had finally overtaken me and I ran up the stairs back to my bedroom. I spotted the blue velvet bag and when I opened it, my suspicions were correct-thirteen small vials filled with a shimmery, silver liquid.

I reached into my beaded clutch and felt around for my pensieve. I felt the tiny rubies and pulled my arm out of the bag. I had bought the pensieve well before we went on the search for horcruxes. I knew there was a possibility that we would want to store our information and sift through our memories for more clues. I never told the boys about it and I had never attempted using it, but I bought it nonetheless.

Finally, I had a use for it. I locked the door to my room and set the pensieve on my dresser. I picked up a vial and slowly poured it into the stone basin, watching the silvery liquid swirl and form an image of Draco sitting on a bed. I looked at myself in the mirror, searching my face for answers. Once I step into his memories, nothing will be the same. I will officially be involved. I nodded softly to myself and lowered my head in until I was enveloped, like the memories were pulling me in deeper. For a split second I worried that this was a trap.

The first thing I saw was Malfoy sitting on a bed in a lavishly decorated room. Dark. Modern. Empty. There weren't many decorations or colors but there were tiny details of artistry on the headboard, the wall sconces and the wall trimming. The more I looked the more details I found. It was clear that this was Malfoy's room: it felt like a direct expression of himself. Cold and uninviting, but the more you looked the more you saw a human touch.

I looked over at him sitting atop his covers reading a book with full concentration.

There was a loud pop at the door behind me and I spun around so quickly I had to rub at my neck. Behind me was a house elf quivering. She was clearly afraid.

"Morree? What's wrong?"

"M-Master Malfoy requests your p-p-presence downstairs." The elf visibly gulped after barely getting her words out.

Malfoy closed his book. "What could Father possibly need from me right now?"

Morree reached her hand out to comfort Malfoy but let it fall and rest at her side. "Master did not tell me, b-but-"

Malfoy held his hand up to quiet her. "It's quite alright, Morree. Thank you for telling me." He stood up and tossed his book on his bed. There was a sense of annoyance on his face but I watched him step outside his bedroom and steadfastly down the stairs through the manor until he stood outside a thick, black door. It was ornate and regal with tiny gold carvings in it. He took a breath, knocked, and entered the room. I slipped in behind him before the door could close.

Inside was an angry Lucius with his hair tied back and the ring engraved with the Malfoy crest gleaming from across what I assumed was his study. "Draco," he said with a lull, his voice dripping with annoyance. Lucius opened a drawer and pulled out a folder filled with papers. He slapped them on the desk so they made a dramatic slap against the wood of his desk. He spoke menacingly. "Open it."

Malfoy moved slowly forward, reaching out for the folder. His face fell when he opened it. What was in there? I walked closer to Draco so I could see but he shut it.

"When in bloody hell were you planning to share your… future with us?" Lucius sneered and set his jaw. Fury covered his face and his voice grew louder. Malfoy looked down at his feet. "Answer me, boy!"

Somehow Malfoy found his voice. "I was just looking. Snape gave them to me a few weeks ago.." His voice drifted and his eyes locked with his father's. He tilted his head. "But where did you even find these?

"Never you mind where I found them. You _know_ what your plans are after Hogwarts. I would rather die than know that my only son turned his back on the Dark Lord."

I reflexively took a step back from the scene unfolding before my eyes until I felt the support of the wall behind me. Was Neville right? Were there Death Eaters who didn't want to be Death Eaters? Was Malfoy looking for a way out?

"Quite frankly, I would rather you just die."

Lucius stood abruptly from his desk and turned his wand at his son. Suddenly Draco was grabbing at his throat and his face turned red. His mouth hung open, searching for air, but the grip on his throat was tightening every second.

"You know your duties to your family. And we both know you wouldn't give up your inheritance, would you, Draco?" Lucius chuckled darkly, seemingly proud of himself. He released whatever hex he had put on his son and Malfoy collapsed desperately to the floor, choking and gasping for air.

I felt the memory releasing me and pushing me back up to the surface. Somehow I felt just as desperate for air as Draco had been. I felt overwhelmed with questions. I needed to see more and yet, I was scared to see more. Why was Malfoy willingly letting people sift through his memories? Doesn't he know the hazards of using a pensieve? But of course he knew, Hermione. I mentally slapped myself. He's desperate. The pros outweighed the cons.

I went to the mini-kitchen in my room and brewed a cup of tea. I sat on my bed and picked up another vial of liquid.


	2. Chapter 2

**So this is my second attempt at a Dramione fanfiction. I've had this idea for quite a while, and I have a decent amount typed out, and a good bit of the storyline mapped out, so hopefully I can get it published quickly. This is a work of fanfiction using characters, names, places, etc created by JK Rowling. I do not claim to own any part of Harry Potter. This is a work of my imagination, inspired by the world created by JK Rowling. This story might be a little (or a lot) OOC from JK Rowling's version of Hermione and Draco, but I think any Dramione story is destined to be slightly OOC. Please enjoy!**

This time, Draco's memory brought me to the woods. He was running for dear life, and for a moment I wondered if we were in the woods where Harry, Ron, and I were caught, but I remembered Draco hadn't been present for that. I ran after him to keep up. I was falling behind, his legs are too long, how did Neville keep up with this memory? And then he fell. And suddenly Lucius was hovering over him.

"Where do you think you're going, Draco?"

Malfoy was silent and curled up on the ground. He was holding onto his ankle, which was swelling quickly. Lucius stepped on Draco's ankle. "You think you could just run away from your family because you don't want to finish an assignment?" He put more weight on Draco's ankle until I heard a firm crackle and I watched as his face contorted in pain.

"Get up!" He barked. Draco rolled over onto his side and coughed. "I said, get up!" He grabbed at Draco's arm.

Draco stumbled to his knee and stood with one leg limp. He stumbled over and I reached out to help him, but my hand went right through his body. When he collapsed back to the ground, Lucius yelled at him once more, as if that would suddenly heal his son. Draco forced himself back up and stood firmly on his broken ankle. His jaw was clenched tight as his body swayed. "What do you want from me?" he asked his father.

"What do I want from you, Draco? I want you to not be such a disappointment. Why do you insist on embarrassing me so? Crucio!" Draco doubled over in pain until it looked like his entire body would combust. Lucius ended the spell and spit on the ground next to his son. "There's a tracker on the manor, Draco. I didn't realize you were a flight risk until now."

Draco pitifully spat at his father and attempted to get up.

"Don't even bother, Draco. I would rather you stay here and rot than come back to the manor." He turned around sharply and walked through the woods as if there had been a perfectly marked trail back to their home.

Malfoy fell back to the ground and screamed in anger.

The memory spun and we were in Draco's bedroom again. He was on his bed, his leg wrapped and propped up on a pillow. I couldn't quite identify the feelings inside of me, but this wasn't right. It was hard enough to have these horrid people torture me, but to know it was my own father? I shook my head.

Draco's eyes shot open when we both heard the sound of glass smashing somewhere close by. Muffled voices shouting down the hall. Draco's mother, Narcissa crying and yelling. The sound of Lucius raising his voice over her shouts. Another smash. Did someone fall? I inched closer to Malfoy's bed in fear. Voices were getting closer, footsteps heavier.

"No, Lucius, no! No, no, get away from there!"

The door to Draco's room swung open. "Out of bed, you!" Lucius boomed towards Draco.

"He's hurt-you hurt him! He can't get out of his bed. Whatever you want to do to him, just do to me. Please, Lucius, leave him alone."

"Hush, woman!" He threw her off of him and she stumbled back a little. She ran over to Draco and stood in front of him.

"Do not come any closer, Lucius. Do not make me use magic on you." She pointed her wand at her husband and shielded her child.

"Why did you even bring him back into this house? I left him out there for a reason. He needs to learn consequences for his actions." He looked at Draco this time. "Just remember that whatever I do to you will be infinitely easier to deal with than what the Dark Lord could throw at you."

He turned around and walked out of the room. Narcissa turned to her son and embraced him. "I'm so sorry, Draco. You know you can't just run away! Just do what you're told and this will all be over soon. Please stop fighting with your father. Please!"

He nodded.

"I need to hear you say it. Say you'll do what you're told."

He clenched his jaw and muttered, "I'll do what I'm told." I could see that familiar look of anger and contempt. His mother patted his hand, mumbled something to him, and stood up to leave. His room felt suffocating and I was relieved when the memory spit me back out into my room.

I told myself this would be the last vial I would pour into the pensieve. I dipped my head back in and watched a new scene swirl around me. Malfoy was in the Great Hall talking to Astoria. The setting was white and magnificent; you could feel the magic and excitement in the air. We were at the Yule Ball.

I stepped away from Malfoy and moved around the room, re-living once more one of the best nights of my life. Except this time I was in someone else's head. It made me happy to know that even someone like Malfoy remembered the Yule Ball this beautifully. I walked back towards Malfoy and Astoria, hoping I hadn't missed whatever it was I was supposed to witness in this particular memory.

Astoria whispered something to him and he spun around. They were both looking at the top of the stairs. The three of us watched me descend and greet Krum at the bottom of the stairs. I looked as pretty as I remember feeling that night, and even though I was ready to stop staring at the younger version of myself, I noticed Draco had his eyes glued to me. I braced myself to heard some derogatory comment he would no doubt make about me to Astoria, but Draco was silent. I glanced at him.

"Draco, just tell her how you feel," Astoria told him. She pulled on his arm to get his attention.

"Are you daft?"

"Well, what the hell else are you going to do, Draco? Stare at her until we graduate? Wait until you're on your deathbed to confess your feelings? To be completely honest with you I would much rather you date Granger than Pansy Parkinson. Or any muggleborn for that matter." She rolled her eyes and they began to walk away.

Date me? Draco Malfoy wanted to date me? I was so shocked I couldn't follow them, I couldn't move at all. How could he have ever liked me as something other than something to ridicule? Did he fabricate this memory just to trick me? I followed the couple as they sauntered through the room.

"And what do you think she would say to me, Astoria? She'd punch me again!" Astoria chuckled and patted his arm. The tiara she wore sparkled as she moved.

"Does anyone else know?" Draco grabbed two glasses of pumpkin juice and handed one to his date. Astoria pulled a flask from her clutch and poured a dark liquid into each of their glasses.

Draco shook his head "no" and Astoria tucked the flask back into her clutch. They each took a sip and winced.

"Not even Blaise?" Astoria looked shocked.

"Astoria, no. Only you-it can only be you." He looked down. "If Father ever found out… It could be my head on a platter. Or worse, hers."

I swallowed hard. My head was spinning and I felt myself in dire need of whatever was in Astoria's flask. Draco sent one more longing look to the younger version of myself spinning with Krum and took a large swig of his drink. The memory warped and I was back in Malfoy Manor. Dread washed over me like a tidal wave as I heard a scream.

Lucius was talking to Malfoy in the hallway, pleading with him to be honest. Malfoy looked haggard and empty. He was older. He'd lost his boyish looks and the charisma that followed him up to 6th year. He looked gaunt. I looked around us and I spotted Harry, Ron, and myself. We'd just been captured. I collapsed where I was once standing. Tears bubbled up in my eyes and fell over.

I screamed out. I screamed at Bellatrix for hurting me, for hurting the ones I love; I screamed at the girl lying on the floor, telling her to stay strong and fight that cursed woman. I screamed so loud I wanted to break through the memory and create a reality.

"Come on, Hermione."

My head shot up. Did I imagine that? I found the source of the voice. Draco was standing along the wall of the room with his father's hand on his arm, holding him down. All this time I thought it had been Ron's voice, but it was Draco's. Did he disguise it? No, I just didn't notice.

"Come on, Hermione. Hang in there. Just relax into the pain, it'll end soon. I'll make sure you guys get out of here alive."

I blinked.

The scene swirled once more and I felt that familiar pushing, like the memory was getting rid of me. I fell backwards when I saw the walls of my bedroom. Emotionally exhausted and physically drained, I sank heavily into my floor. Tears fell down my face. Fuck Draco for making me cry. Fuck those memories. Why would he want me to see those? What was he getting at? I shut my eyes, trying to make sense of the new information Draco had given me. What was I supposed to do with this? Oh, right. He wanted me to testify for him. Would I? Had I seen enough to make a decision?

There were more vials but I couldn't stomach any more. How much had Neville seen? Did he know how Draco felt about me? Were any of those even real? My brain felt like cotton and my heart was slamming against my chest. What would I do?

I woke up with a crick in my neck from sleeping on the floor. I sat up and saw the pensieve on my dresser. I immediately shrunk it down and put it in my clutch, hoping I would never have to use it ever again. I stood up, collected the vials, and put them back into their bag. I felt more uncertain than I did last night.

I went to my desk and pulled out a sheet of parchment paper.

_Draco,_

_Meet me on the outskirts of Hogsmeade at 6._

_Hermione_

I rolled it up and placed it in the back pocket of my jeans. I would send it out later when I made it to the Owlery. I would meet Draco today.

When I made it to Hogsmeade I found a secluded spot near a bunch of rocks. I picked one that looked comfortable and waited patiently for Draco to arrive. Moments later I saw the same curly-haired man from a few days ago walk up to me and sit down. He had disguised himself. Smart move, I thought.

We sat next to each other in silence. I felt vulnerable, especially after seeing the memory about me. I knew too much. I reached into my clutch and pulled out his bag of vials.

"You saw them all, then?" he asked.

I shook my head "no". "They were much too intense. I could only look at three of them."

He nodded. "Which three?"

I took a deep breath. "The first one was your father-"

"Lucius," he said.

"The first one was Lucius, he was mad at you for thinking about your future, but I couldn't see what was in the folder. The second one was you running away, and the last was… It was you and Astoria at the Yule Ball." My voice got more and more quiet. I wasn't sure if he had heard me.

"I was hoping that had been one of them."

I looked at him. "Why?"

"Because I wanted you to understand that I'm not a horrible person. I did horrible things in my youth, but I swear to Merlin I'm not as evil as them."

"But why me, Malfoy?" I felt panicked. "Why me of all people? And why Neville? Who else did you show these to?"

"I told you before-people trust you. If you told someone the sky was red they would believe you. I asked Neville for the same reason. The only other person I asked was Luna Lovegood. Because she's open-minded."

"Did they look at all of the memories?"

He nodded. I choked back a sob.

"So they both know how you felt about me?"

He nodded again. "How I _feel_ about you. You didn't see the other ones."

I closed my eyes and felt cotton replace my brain. "Why, Malfoy," I whispered.

We sat in silence again as I stared off into the woods behind us. Finally I spoke up. "I'll testify for you."

"Seriously?" I said nothing. "Hermione, say something. Did I hear you correctly?"

"Yes. The trial is the day after tomorrow. I'll be there."

He shut his eyes and looked relieved. Somehow that made me angry. Of course he's relieved. He put all of this on me and he's the one that's relieved.

"Well, if that's everything," I said. "I'm going to head out." I stood up and wiped off my jeans. I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away.

"Do you want to grab tea or something?"

I scoffed. "Tea? Really?"

"We can talk things through. I'll explain the memories."

"You'll explain everything?" He nodded slowly and I followed him through Hogsmeade.

The entire trial had been stressful, emotional, triggering. But I told him I would testify in favor of him, and I did. Harry and Ron were shocked, but I knew going into this that they would be. I didn't tell them about the vials because I knew they would want to experience them, and I knew that it was better if they didn't. The court took hours to come up with a decision. Draco and I made eye-contact a few times. I suppose he was looking for comfort, but I had none to give. I still felt overwhelmed with everything I had seen and experienced in the past few days.

Draco had always been an enemy, but seeing how vicious Lucius was to him, I suddenly found myself defending him. And then there was the Yule Ball and his confession. How he _feels_, present tense? I was confused. When we got tea that day he started from the beginning, explained his childhood, his upbringing, the first time he heard the term _mudblood_ (his grandfather used it to describe a server at a restaurant and how the standards must have somehow been lowered), how he acted in school.

He said it had started genuine at first. He really did believe that people were different, that his bloodline made him superior. Then, something changed. He met one of his favorite Quidditch players, who mentioned a book, a favorite of his. Draco read it. Supposedly it changed his life. I was all for the power of the arts and the weight of literature, but could one single book truly turn a prejudiced man into one of equality? Especially one who continued to use the word to describe myself and other students.

He apologized profusely and gave the vials back to me, asked me again to please look at the others. I shook my head. I was done with the pensieve. I asked him why he didn't try to use his power and his social standing to change the minds of others if he had actually had a change of heart. He told me he couldn't, that the others would have tortured him. I wanted to believe that he was wrong, but I also knew that this prejudice ran deep in the bloodlines of many of the witches and wizards at Hogwarts. It was foolish to think that one person could completely change the minds of his peers.

But there was still a part of me that wanted to deny him of forgiveness. I told him I wasn't sure how we were supposed to end things or what I was supposed to say. Were we supposed to become best friends now? The situation felt strange. My gut told me to be cautious, that even though he allowed himself to become vulnerable in front of me, I should still keep a part of myself on reserve. But if Neville seemed so protective of him… I shook my head.

The court had decided. Draco was mostly innocent, but wouldn't be completely off the hook. Draco looked relieved when he found out he wouldn't be going to Azkaban, and I must admit that I was too. Most people around us were angry, but they didn't understand. They didn't know the intricacies of his story.

He was given 200 hours of community service to be completed in two months. Reparations had to be paid. Draco's eyes found mine and I gave him a smile. He would have the rest of his life to prove to people that he was a changed man this entire time. And the great part was, his father wouldn't be here to hurt him anymore. I stood up and walked out of the courtroom. Reporters stopped me every two seconds for questions. "No comment," I repeated so many times it started to sound like one single word.

When the crowd got louder I spun around to see Draco at the top of the stairs. He caught my eye and mouthed "Hogsmeade" to me. Moments later we were both at our original meeting spot, this time we were both disguised.

"Hermione, I don't think I have the words to express how grateful I am for this. I-I have no words right now."

"I'm glad I helped. Just make wise decisions."

"I will."

We grew quiet. There were so many words inside of my body but I couldn't choose which ones to tell him. I opened my mouth but shut it immediately.

"What were you about to say?"

I shook my head. "I was about to ask which community service activities you were going to choose."

"I'm not sure, yet, honestly. Want to help me decide?"

I hesitated for a moment then nodded. I had no idea that that one movement was going to change our lives completely.


End file.
